Hard 5 by Stephanie Brother
28
If the sheriff catches me driving this fast, I know I'll lose my license, but I have to risk it for Big Boy's sake. Dirt spreads behind me like a sandstorm, and the tires squeal in protest as I throw the truck off the highway and onto the road to Hard Valley. The sky is clear and bright, and I squint against the sun streaming directly through the windshield. The stupid flap on the sun visor is missing, and I swear under my breath in frustration.
Will Cash, Cary, Colt, Sawyer, and Scott be at the house, or will they still be dealing with the herd? Either way, if I can get a phone, I'll be able to talk to them. It's then that it hits me that my phone might have been stolen when Big Boy was taken. I swear again, blinking fast to help my eyes, squinting across the open land.
The open land that seems blurred.
Smoke.
I stamp my foot hard on the brake, lurching forward in my seat and throwing open the car door. As I hold my hand at my forehead, trying to shield my eyes, I follow the smoke trail to Cooper's Cottage. And then I see it. Yellow flames at the windows and a plume of thick smoke rising up into the previously clear sky.
My heart seems to stop, and my hand slaps my mouth as I gasp. The house is burning. I jump into the car and speed back around until I get to the entryway to the property that used to be mine, speeding down the track that I could map without even looking. My hands are shaking, and my cheeks are already wet with tears.
What am I going to do?
I can't fight this fire by myself, and I don't have a phone to call it in. The truck lurches out of a pothole that my father should have filled in years ago. My teeth clank in my mouth. I know this is pointless, but I can't drive away. This was my home. I won't leave it while it burns.
As I get closer, the air closes around the vehicle, shadowing the sun with smoke. The air is acrid as the fire crackles and splinters its terrible song. I don't get close. I'm not foolish enough to think that filling a couple of buckets will make a blind bit of difference. It's too late for that. Too late to save this place that is so much my heart.
A memory of my father chopping wood outside in the winter floods my mind. Memories of tossing those logs onto the open fire inside. The warmth of my home seeping into my veins as I snuggled up on my momma's knee.
It's as though the fire is burning those memories too.
This lovely house didn't deserve this. I didn't deserve this.
But maybe I did. Maybe the hatred I felt toward the Bradfords in the beginning, and my disloyalty to them when Jethro Flint threw around his accusations is why this is happening.
I was so close to getting this place back. So close to making my dream of turning this farm into something beautiful, and now that's all gone.
The Bradfords won't forgive me.
I saw the hatred in Scott's eyes. I saw the disappointment as the rest of them realized that I hadn't warned them about the Flints and when they discovered that I'd kept secrets. It's as bad as lying to them myself.
And now Big Boy is gone, and their investment has been torched. Their herd has been attacked. What else could happen?
I whip my head in the direction of Flint House as the realization that it could also be under attack hits me. Maybe they've hurt the horses? Maybe Lady?
A sob leaves my lips, the breath hitching in my chest.
Maybe they've hurt one of my boys.
Oh God.
I drop to my knees under the weight of it all.
I want to turn back the clock and be better. I want the chance to be the person my momma raised me to be. A person who doesn't hold grudges and who doesn't let hate and resentment cloud their decisions. I could be that person, and none of this would happen. The Bradfords would be prepared. They would secure the farms better and kept the Flint brothers out.
Sobbing into my hands, I think of poor Big Boy scared and alone with that man he doesn't know. I think of the wallpaper in my old bedroom that I'll never see again. I think of those poor cows whose lives were cut short.
I think about the different look in the Bradford brothers’ eyes that told me their feelings about me have changed.
The best thing that ever happened to me is ruined.
Behind me, tires crunch across the stony ground, but I don't turn. I can't face them if it's my boys. I can't hold my head up anymore. Engines are silenced, and doors are flung open. Boots sound all around me, and I'm scooped from the ground and held close to someone's chest. I'm sobbing, my whole body racked with uneven breaths as voices shout around me.
"Just leave it," Cash says. "It's too far gone."
"But we have to do something."
"Fire service. I'm calling to report a fire…"
I'm carried further away and placed into the front seat of a different truck. My hair is smoothed away from my wet face, and I blink, finding Sawyer crouched next to the car, his expression filled with worry.
"What happened?" he asks. "Why are you here? What the hell happened to your hand?"
"They broke into Flint house. They took Big Boy. They burned Cooper's Cottage." I stare down at the red and purple bruises that are flaming around my wrist and the blood that has congealed over my knuckles. I didn't even realize I was injured, and to be honest, I don't even care.
Sobbing again, I bury my face in my hands.
"Who?"
"The Flint Brothers. They have Big Boy in a trailer at McCafferty's. I saw him, but I couldn't get him." Sawyer is on his feet in a flash.
"Scott, get over here. We need to go!"
"What? Where?"
"To find Big Boy. The Flints have got him, and Melanie knows where."